


Damnation, Redemption

by Buntheridon



Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: Gen, I’ve no idea tho I’m not in the beta, Look I think he’s hot ok, Minor Spoilers, Shadowlands, Shadowlands Pre-Patch, Silly, bastion - Freeform, grim
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-19
Updated: 2020-09-19
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:41:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 549
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26549929
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Buntheridon/pseuds/Buntheridon
Comments: 3
Kudos: 7
Collections: Nathanduin Prompt Event 2020





	Damnation, Redemption

Nathanos Blightcaller, née Marris, Champion of the Banshee Queen, puts down his steaming mug of herbal infusion. Drinking it in the morning keeps his undead flesh warm and body hair lustrous, but all that vain grooming doesn’t really matter anymore. He looks at the ragtag group of self-proclaimed heroes and doesn’t even suppress his amused smirk. But does he ever?

”Congratulations! You managed to track me to the most unlikely places.  _ My very own home.” _

One of the night elves giggles nervously at that.  _ Still got the touch, eh? _ He knows how this is going to end, it’s all going according to Sylvanas’ plan, but he might as well have some fun on his way out. He whistles sharply and four massive blighthounds, teeth exposed, mouths foaming, fur steaming something unpleasant and green, attack the champions of Azeroth. Nathanos smiles when they tear apart two of the weakest players of the group before the idiots start even forming up a tactic.

”I assume you are seeking retribution for all the  _ bad, bad things _ I've done, I suppose.” His voice purrs like he took pleasure in reminiscing his said deeds. And truthfully, he does. His red eyes catch a night elf, the same who liked his sarcasm earlier, who’s now blushing.  _ Well, well. Shame I’m not really into rubbing mucous membranes together, that one seems keen. _

The heroes, mostly Alliance affiliated, surround him after defeating his dogs. He doesn’t care, they had served their purpose and so has he. He draws his axes and yells:

”I have been waiting a long time for this. Let's get on with it, shall we!”

He slices through the living like a reaper, streams of blood dancing in his wake, his leather jacket smeared with it. When there are only five of them left he slows down and feigns weakness, because even if the feeble nitwits cannot seem to get the killing blow he’s been wasting enough time already and must move on.

He lets them hack his head off. Darkness takes him.

He comes to under a bright blue sky.  _ This cannot be right, _ he frowns and sits up.  _ It should be dark.  _ Everything around him is peculiarly Azerite-colored.

It feels magnificent not to be dead. Or undead. The clean air moves into his lungs, he feels a heartbeat in his chest.

”Good morning, welcome, welcome! I wouldn’t have thought to meet  _ you _ here but the ways of the Light are unpredictable to say the least. Would you like some cake?”

Nathanos stands up and out of habit dusts his pants which are blue silk, not dark leather. He turns around to see the source of the ridiculous suggestion.

Flanked by two short humanoid owls carrying trays of blue bubbling liquid in tall glasses stands the most beautiful being he’s ever seen. Frowning at the familiarity he thinks a moment until it dawns on him.

”Boy-king?”

”Indeed. Welcome to Bastion. The val’kyr are throwing a dance party in a minute, follow me!”

This probably isn’t what was planned, but it doesn’t feel at all important anymore. Who was it that sent him here? Nathanos can’t quite remember. He feels pleasantly weightless and follows the angelic young man up a path leading towards a golden building.

A cake sounds like a wonderful idea, actually.


End file.
